


across galaxies (in any time, i'm yours)

by itsmylifekay



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Michael is very into Alex's nail polish and it shows, Porn with Feelings, michael POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Fully prepared to waste another night at the bar, getting drunk enough to forget his own name, the last thing Michael expects is to find himself completely smitten. Let alone with someone who feels so suspiciously like home.(Also known as, Michael discovers he has a thing for nail polish and his soulmate all in one night. What a time to be alive.)





	across galaxies (in any time, i'm yours)

The lights of the bar are dim and low, no clocks or windows, no way to feel the passing of time, and it’s exactly the place Michael wants to be, _needs_ to be. Anything to get away from the constant memories and failed expectations that follow his every step.

He’s got his armor on: cowboy boots, black hat, and thick, silver belt buckle hung dangerously low on his hips. He swaggers like he owns the place, drinks like he’s already drowning, and winks at just about anyone who catches his eye. It’s the perfect play, draws people in who are willing to offer him a distraction, a no-strings-attached kind of deal, but also keeps away the people who might care enough to _talk_ , to ask questions and try to get underneath the barriers he’s constructed so carefully around his life.

The bar stool is comfortable and familiar beneath him, elbow propped easily on the counter as he swivels to survey the room. The bartender is sending pointed looks his way, having seen Michael around enough to know when he’s got an itch, when too much tequila and just the right push will be enough to have fists swinging and chairs knocking to the ground. He shoots them a disarming smile in return.

There’s a redhead at the far end of the bar who’s caught his interest, glancing his way every now and again, laughing and dancing with her friends who are all clearly out that night to have fun, maybe get lucky. But something in him doesn’t spark. There’s a sticky, gripping dullness that refuses to let go, has him turning away with a sigh and signaling the bartender for another shot that he throws back without so much as a blink. More alcohol to try and drown it all out.

He takes another sweep of the room, stopping abruptly when he catches sight of a group that’s just coming in the door. Two girls and two guys, all gorgeous.

But only one has really caught his eye, a guy with dark hair and darker clothes, shirt just this side of see-through and pants tight enough to have Michael shifting in his seat. He’s nothing like what Michael would usually go for, but something about him won’t let Michael look away.

All four of them are already laughing, loosely hanging off each other like it’s maybe their second or third stop of the night. Michael watches in careful, subtle glances as they find a booth up against the wall, sliding in and ordering a round of drinks that go down fast and easy, soon followed by a second.

It doesn’t take long before they’re all out on the dance floor. And Michael is captivated. Mystery guy is quickly proving to be Michael’s definition of _sin._

He dances with both of the girls, body moving easily to the beat as they put hands on his shoulders and waist, trace his chest with their fingers. Then the other guy gets his turn, and it takes Michael’s breath away. Strong hands wrap around that waist, dark leather pulled tight to classic denim. Their hips sway, the girls cheer, and Michael’s mouth is suddenly dry, watching the way the guy leans his head back into the other’s shoulder, smile slow and easy. He’s suddenly overcome with the need for that to be _him_ , for it to be his hands around that trim waist, his mouth murmuring something that makes the other man’s grin go wicked.

He glances over and sees one of the girls watching him, eyes bright as if she can see straight through him. She raises a brow, looks between him and her friends, clearly wondering which one has caught his eye. Mystery guy does a terrible, _wonderful_ thing with his hips and Michael nearly chokes, watching as the man’s dance partner gasps and quickly ducks to hide his face. The girl’s smile widens.

(It gives Michael some hope that he’s not going to get his ass kicked for ogling someone else’s boyfriend, but Michael’s been surprised before. He’s learned the hard way that some people are actually into that, want to see their partner punch someone out in a fit of jealousy just to spice things up for the night.)

She says something to the two men and dark, kohl-lined eyes meet his own, instantly pinning him in place. The other man still hasn’t let go and Michael watches in stunned fascination as strong, ring covered fingers thread through the hands at his waist, urging them further along his body, dipping dangerously low to his thigh and up across his chest.

Michael can’t help it, bites the inside of his lip and shuts his eyes for just a moment, imagines those dark-painted fingers around his cock. Imagines how that eyeliner might run after Michael’s fucked his throat, if his hair would still look so perfectly tousled after Michael’s had his hands through it.

He forces his eyes open and takes in as much as he can, tracing over every line of that body in case he doesn’t get to again. Even fully clothed, Michael knows he’s going to have enough material to get him through quite a few nights alone. He’s honestly not expecting it when the song ends and the two men part, the object of Michael’s fantasies cutting through the crowd and heading straight for where Michael’s still sat at the bar like a damn fool.

He comes to a stop within arms reach, one dark brow raised in question. Michael reaches for him without thinking about it, puts one steadying hand on his waist and breathes out a ‘ _fuck_ ’ that has the other man laughing.

“That bad, huh?”

Michael blinks up at him, taking a moment to process because fuck, even his voice was hot. “Yeah, uh,” he shakes his head. “I promise I’m usually smoother than this.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to prove it, then,” he says. He bites his lip, eyes dragging up Michael’s body before catching back on his eyes. “Wanna show me your moves, cowboy?”

Michael would laugh at the line if it hadn’t been so successful.

“That depends,” he says. His hand shifts, fingers drifting ever so slightly towards warm skin. His other hand falls to the belt buckle at his waist. An invitation. A promise. His voice drops a bit lower. “You wanna go for a ride?”

The other man hums, tilts his head and smiles down at Michael like he has a secret he hasn’t quite been convinced to tell. “You don’t want to dance?” He sways his hips a bit to the music, teasing, tortuous, and Michael wraps both thumbs through the belt loops at his waist.

“You offering?”

He gets a scoff in response, but isn’t deterred, sees the challenge clear in the dark eyes staring back at him. He tugs the other man in before standing, bringing them flush together, knees to chest.

They both let out a shaky breath, the other man swallowing before saying, “I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Michael.”

Somehow, they make it out to the dance floor, Alex sliding seamlessly through the moving bodies and Michael following carefully in his wake.

It’s crowded and hot, but at the same time feels like they’re the only two in the room. Michael is transfixed. Alex is even more beautiful up close.

Now, Michael can see the sweat at his hairline and the silver of his septum piercing, can feel the rasp of callouses and the cool press of metal as hands creep beneath his shirt and splay out against his lower back.

Then Alex turns around, gets them back to chest and suddenly Michael can hardly breathe with how badly he wants. His face drops to Alex’s neck and the next swivel of hips draws a groan into the warm skin there.

Time passes in a blur of slowly building heat. They push closer and closer together until there’s not a bit of space between, lost in the music and each other, hands wandering. Michael’s never claimed to be a good dancer, but Alex is effortless in the way he moves. He coaxes Michael into moving with him and it’s so _easy._ So dangerously, perfectly easy to fall into Alex and forget about everything else.

Alex’s friends come over at some point, laugh and tease and eye the two of them with something like pleased curiosity. Michael’s stomach swoops spectacularly when Alex waves them off, says he’ll make his own way home. Another groan is muffled in the warm skin of Alex’s neck, drawing a laugh from the other man as he turns around and fixes Michael with a look that promises the best kind of trouble.

“Still want to show me those moves, cowboy?”

Michael draws in a breath, leans forward to press their foreheads together. “Fuck, yeah.”

Alex tilts his face up, kisses Michael with a smile still on his lips. For a first kiss, it’s slow and hot and perfect. It tastes like alcohol and sends shivers down Michael’s spine.

The bar is as loud and smoky as ever, but for that moment, pressed together and sharing air, Michael finally feels the first hint of peace he’s had all night. Not in a bottle or between bed sheets, but trapped in the gaze of a man he hardly knows, already too far gone for the few words they’ve exchanged. There’s just something about him that draws Michael in, like the gravitational pull of a star, or a black hole threatening to claim every piece of himself he has to offer.

They don’t last much longer after that, escaping into the cool night and pressing each other against the wall outside, the door of Michael’s truck. The stars stare down at them and only the barest sliver of moon hangs in the sky.

They end up stretched out in the bed of Michael’s truck, kisses getting slower until they stop and just trace careful hands over each other’s bodies. They listen to the sounds around them, the laughter and music that occasionally spills out from the bar, the drone of car engines. They think of calling a cab, but decide against it, enjoying the quiet solitude they’ve found as the alcohol slowly fizzles away.

Alex tells him about his dream to create music, to escape a small town that had never truly accepted him for who he was. Michael tells him he’s beautiful. He tells him about his own love for music and the peace it brings when the world gets overwhelming.

Alex threads sure fingers through his hair and kisses him stupid, until everything goes quiet. When they finally break apart, Michael can’t help but stare, so full of wonder at this man who just seems to _fit._ The stars finally aligning to bring them together, meant to be.

There’s an itch in his fingers as he finally climbs into the cab to drive them home, Alex in his stolen cowboy hat looking like a dream Michael never knew he had. But that image has nothing on what Alex looks like laid out on Michael’s sheets, dark hair, darker eyes, and black fingernails all making Michael’s blood go hot. He wants to kiss every inch of him.

He settles for joining him on the bed, pressing all that bare skin together and drowning in the feeling of Alex’s fingers in his hair. Their mouths meet again, hot and wet and perfect. Alex grips his hair a bit tighter, licks at his bottom lip, and Michael opens for him on a moan, feeling warm and boneless as Alex flips them over and takes control of the kiss.

Michael feels absolutely _devoured._

The only thing in his mind is Alex, the feel of his mouth and the drag of his hands over Michael’s chest, the way he uses his grip on Michael’s hair to bare his throat and kiss down to his pulse. The way his lips curve into a smile at Michael’s shameless, unexpected moan.

Alex pulls back and runs a hand down Michael’s side, eyes dark. “Lube?”

Michael fumbles in his nightstand for just a moment before producing a condom and a small bottle, dropping the first on the covers and tossing the second to Alex, who immediately pops the cap and squeezes some out onto his fingers. He straddles Michael’s thighs and reaches back with slick fingers, head tilting back slightly, eyes half-lidded. His other hand wraps around his cock, giving slow strokes as he opens himself up.

The nail polish is as breathtaking as Michael had expected, even if it’s not his own cock those fingers are wrapped around. He can’t drag his eyes away, sits up and grabs Alex’s hips to anchor them both.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes.

Alex laughs, a short and breathless thing, and Michael is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to kiss it from his mouth. He surges up and swallows the surprised gasp that comes from Alex’s lips. It’s a messy kiss, both of them distracted by the press of their bodies, but they don’t break away until they’re panting. They press their foreheads together and breathe each other’s air.

It feels like Michael’s world has narrowed down to just this, Alex knelt above him in the half-light of his bedroom. He’s never met anyone who could make him feel this way, who drew him in and wouldn’t let go, pulled together like something cosmic.

Alex lets out a little gasp and brings Michael crashing back to the present, taking in Alex’s bitten lips and the way his body moves as he works himself open.

Alex’s other hand is pressed against Michael’s chest for balance and Michael can’t help the choked off sound that escapes him when dark painted fingers rub over a nipple. Alex seems to get the picture pretty quickly, taking his hand back with a smirk and stroking up his own chest instead, fanning his fingers out along his skin right in Michael’s line of view. All he can imagine are those same fingers disappearing inside of Alex’s hole, flashes of black as he stretches himself open.

“Please,” Michael gasps, grabbing at Alex’s hips. “I—Can I see you? Please?”

Alex lets out a few heavy breaths, eyes boring into Michael’s as he stills. Blood rushes in his ears as Alex pulls his hand away, swings himself around so his back’s to Michael. He holds himself open with one hand and the other teases back at his entrance, circling once before one finger presses in.

Michael feels all the air punch out of his chest.

Alex adds two more fingers in quick succession, already stretched out and ready. But he makes a show of it, pulling out far enough each time to expose a bit of black. There’s still a ring on one of his fingers, a thick silver band that just barely teases sensitive skin.

Michael isn’t sure if he’s grateful or not that Alex doesn’t take long before he’s pulling out and turning back around, straddled over Michael’s waist and wrapping a hand around Michael’s cock. Michael might black out for a moment at the sight, head thrown back and hands clenching the sheets in a desperate attempt not to come.

Instead he focuses on his breathing, reopening his eyes only when he hears Alex opening the condom. He watches those calloused fingers slide down his cock, bites his lip and tries to commit the image to memory.

“The nail polish really does it for you, huh?” There’s a smirk on his face that makes Michael blush.

“Fuck, I guess it does,” he says. He thumps his head back on the covers. “Please tell me you’re getting something out of this too. Otherwise I’m gonna feel like a real selfish, kinky bastard.”

He gets a full laugh for that one, and Alex leaning down to kiss him. “Trust me,” he murmurs. “I’m getting plenty.” Fingers tangle in his hair and tug, tilting Michael’s head back so Alex can deepen the kiss.

He breaks away with a last press of lips, smoothing a hand down Michael’s chest as he sits up and positions himself over Michael’s cock. Michael’s hands immediately go to his hips to help guide him down, fingers pressing in with a groan as he sinks into tight, slick heat.

They both curse and take a moment to adjust, Alex bowed over and Michael carefully motionless beneath him. Then, Michael bends his legs, gets a bit of leverage and gives a slow roll of his hips. Alex’s mouth opens on a silent gasp and Michael preens, feels a little smug as he repeats the motion and gets the same response.

“Told you I’d give you a ride, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Alex says. He stares down at Michael then places his hands on Michael’s chest, fingers scratching through the hair there. “Gonna follow through on that promise?”

Michael answers with a sharp thrust of his hips. Alex groans out loud, eyes wide and fingers scrabbling in surprise. Michael gets a better grip on Alex’s hips then thrusts again, setting up a steady pace that has them both panting. Alex’s lips are bitten-red and swollen, only getting worse as he tries to hold back the sounds Michael is forcing from him.

Michael isn’t sure why he’s holding back, wants to hear everything, to know what Alex is feeling. His hands slide back and grab at Alex’s ass, spread him open for a harsh thrust that ends in a slow, rolling grind. Alex shudders above him, a low moan pulled from his lips, and Michael lets out his own in return.

“I wanna hear you,” he says. “C’mon, Alex. Let me hear you.”

Dark eyes find his own and that connection that thrums between them seems to burn with a different, deeper heat. It makes Michael push closer, one hand coming up to cover one of Alex’s, fingers threading together as he does another slow circle of his hips.

Alex’s hands twitch and his eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open on a small, breathy groan. It’s beautiful.

Michael wants to hear it again.

He moves them together, starting a new pace that’s slow and dragging, each movement of his hips purposeful, one hand still holding Alex’s. And those beautiful sounds keep spilling out of Alex’s chest.

Low groans, and one breathy whine that makes Michael’s toes curl.

When Alex’s eyes reopen, Michael is stunned at the raw emotion he sees there. The vulnerability and trust. The understanding. It makes him feel flayed open and _seen._ It makes him feel like every piece of himself as been rearranged and made new.

Their mouths come together in a messy clash of lips and tongue, like they’ve found rain after a drought, food after starvation.

Home after years wandering without.

Somehow, Michael feels like his life will never be the same.

The kiss turns more biting and Michael gasps as Alex clenches around him, bucking up in response and pulling a groan from Alex that he kisses from his lips.

They pull back and stare at each other, both wide eyed and panting, aware that something has shifted and resettled.

It feels like they’ve known each other forever. For a lifetime. Across galaxies.

Michael reaches up and brushes Alex’s hair back from his eyes, smiling when the other man visibly relaxes at the touch. He stretches and grabs his hat from where it had ended up on the bedside table, situating it on Alex’s head and only smiling wider at the look Alex gives him.

“Ready, cowboy?”

Alex rolls his eyes but can’t quite keep the fondness out of his expression. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. But the heavy atmosphere between them has lifted and the rest of the tension in Alex’s body leeches away. He rolls his hips, clenches slightly, and Michael takes that as his cue to reclaim his hold on Alex’s hips.

He thrusts up and pulls Alex down against him, setting up a rhythm that Alex quickly matches. It’s not long before they’re both back on the edge, wound up and panting, caught up in each other.

Alex wraps a hand around his own cock, stroking in time with his thrusts as he reaches for his own completion. Michael looks between his dark-lined eyes to the painted nails sliding over flushed skin, watches, transfixed, as Alex shudders and comes, mouth open on Michael’s name.

Michael follows moments later, hands already grasping Alex closer, Alex’s name coming like a mantra from his lips.

They collapse together in a tangle of limbs and warm skin, sticky with sweat and Alex’s release caught between them. It’s an embarrassingly long amount of time before Michael comes back to himself enough to sit up and take care of the condom. His only consolation is that Alex isn’t in much better shape, the other man watching him with bleary eyes.

The hat has fallen off onto the floor somewhere and Michael can’t help but push a hand through all that dark, tousled hair.

Alex makes a noise of complaint when Michael stands, body language suddenly a bit more guarded, and Michael immediately leans down to kiss his forehead. He smooths worry wrinkles away with his thumb. “Gonna get something to clean us up.”

He wipes himself down quickly in the bathroom then walks back to take care of Alex, stopping for just a moment to take in the picture in front of him. Alex, fucked out and half asleep in his bed, staring back at him with obvious impatience.

Alex lets him run the washcloth over his body, laughing quietly when Michael notices the black polish on his toes and lets out an embarrassing noise of surprise.

“Yeah, we’re definitely exploring this fascination of yours later,” Alex says. He sits up and curls one hand around the back of Michael’s neck. “But for now, it’s late, I’m tired…” He raises his eyebrows expectantly and Michael can’t believe he’s already so smitten.

He lays down obediently and smiles as Alex settles against his chest. His arm automatically wraps around the other man’s shoulders. He knows they’ll have a lot to talk about in the morning, so much more to say, to learn about each other.

But for now, it’s perfect.

For now, it feels like finding home.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr, same username


End file.
